You and I
by fireun
Summary: Shonen Ai fluff warning. with a little angst for spice. Maes and Roy, shonen ai as well as friendship fics. the chapters are multiplying almost as fast as the dust bunnies in my apartment!
1. You and I

_this is a direct result of a rabid attack by fic!bunnies of a most insidious nature. pardon the odd tone of this one. it just kinda...happened. lyrics are from "Temples of Gold" byKamelot. listening to itincited the fic!bunnies to riot.-fireun_

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_"_**_I see you when it snows  
in crystals dancing down  
from a sultry sky  
when silence is pure and unbreakable  
I can see you smiling  
in every frozen tear  
I can hear you whisper You and I"_**

"Whatcha doin'?" It was a bright voice, completely lacking in any sort of polite distance. It was almost as if the thought that the inquiry was not welcome had never crossed the speakers mind. Maybe if he kept silent, ignored him, the speaker would leave…The bench creaked slightly, indicating that the little formalities of human interaction were wasted on this one. Maybe a bulldozer would be more useful…

He turned with a frustrated snarl, slamming the book he has been studying closed with a smack so solid most people would have decided they had somewhere else very important to be right then. Not this fellow. Roy locked gazes with languid eyes that seemed completely unaffected by his very obvious ire.

"I am trying to read." Roy dragged the last word out before snapping the 'd' with military precision.

The interloper pushed square-framed glasses up his nose slightly, peering at Roy's badge for a moment. "Mustang, eh? Alchemist, I would assume by that musty book you are clutching."

He was either impossibly lacking in social skills or he was intentionally attempting to provoke someone rumored to have a rather spectacular temper. Either way, he was proving to be a nuisance as well as an ass.

"Before you decide to transmute me into a shoe or something, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink. My treat." That seemingly oblivious face split into a toothy smile, one that suggested he knew exactly what he had been doing.

Which managed to catch Roy's interest. Someone who was dumb enough to provoke him and then ask him out to a bar…had to be either an idiot or a saint, and either way, Roy found himself wanting to figure it out. "Roy Mustang." He offered a hand, almost a peace offering.

"Maes Hughes."

**_"little did we know  
that they were life itself  
the days passing by  
we both had our share in the sacrifice  
once upon a time  
we had something beautiful  
once upon a time  
I thought you and I"_**

"Shoes. Off the couch."

Maes sighed, not at all happy to relinquish the comfortable position he was currently lounging in. still, it was the other man's furniture. He swung his legs to the floor, pried each shoe off, and then flopped back into limp relaxation with a sigh.

"Did you just creak?" Roy raised one eloquent eyebrow, glancing up from his current book.

"Shuddap. I am far too young to be creaking." He yawned, defeating his argument with the exhaustion of the overworked. No matter how he tried to hunch his shoulders they still managed to hurt…

Roy listened to Maes shift for what had to have been the thirtieth time in a handful of minutes, and shut his book. Maes was sprawled in an almost anatomically impossible position, his back obviously bothering him from the angles he was attempting. He spent too much time huddled behind a desk doing enough paperwork to drive most men insane. Thankfully, he was a very particular brand of insane already.

"Give me a few minutes, then I am going to make some coffee." Maes muttered, eyes closed. Maybe if he flopped over onto his stomach…

Now he looked like some sort of pathetically beached fish…it was more than Roy could handle. A smirk on his face, he stood as silently as possible and made his way to the back of the couch.

Roy Mustang was one who could be considered to be very aware of personal boundaries. He didn't like being touched and rarely touched anyone else. So it came as a surprise to both of them when he reached down and attempted to massage Maes' back. Maes jerked in surprise, eyes snapping open, almost rolling to the floor as instincts took over and demanded he respond to a unaccounted for physical presence.

That was, until he noticed Roy was not in his coveted chair but standing beside the couch, a rather odd look on his face. It appeared they were both puzzled by what had just happened. Maes, as usual, was the first to break the silence. "I guess the desk jobs are just as unhealthy as the grunt work."

"Appears so, if the state of your back is any indication." Roy responded in kind, speaking with a sort of conversational dinner table tone of voice.

"Yeah. The lower back pain has been brutal. All that leaning over to read hellish handwriting. You would think the higher ups would know how to write."

"One would definitely hope so."

neither of them decided to mention that fact that somewhere in that conversation Maes had settled back onto the couch and Roy's hands had drifted back down and slowly started to work on tense muscles.

"_**bless me with a kiss  
**__**across the universe  
when day and night converge  
and whisper my name till I fall asleep  
tell me tales from days bygone"**_

"Y'r late." Maes' voice was fuzzy with sleep, and from the smell of his breath, a studious dose of alcohol.

"I thought I was the drinker." Roy sighed, shutting the door behind him, kicking his boots off as he locked the apartment. Maes continued to peer owlishly at him from his place on the couch, his glasses having wandered off somewhere he had a rather puzzled look on his face as he tried to make out the details of his friend. "Maes, where are your glasses?"

"Fell down somewhere I s'pose." Maes waved away his friends concern with an unsteady hand. "Y'r late." He repeated, his voice gaining a hint of what was most likely accusatory concern.

"It happens." Roy poured himself a glass of coffee left over from that morning, wincing at the coldly bitter taste. "Anyway, I assumed you would go home. You do have your own apartment."

"Worried." Maes' voice quivered with a tone Roy was unfamiliar with, but for some reason it made his throat tighten in response. He took in Maes' hunched position, the empty bottles, and frowned.

"Maes. I was only gone a week. Routine detail." He attempted to soothe over what was obviously a very upset brand of drunk.

"S'posed to be three days." Maes sniffed suddenly, eyes narrowing. "Smell smoke."

Roy cringed. He had been hoping to get a shower before coming in contact with Maes shrewd grasp of any situation. Even drunk the man's ability to sort through data was terrifying. "Well, there were some things they needed alchemists to handle…"

Maes stood, only slightly wobbly, as he walked a determined path straight toward Roy, poor eyesight and inebriation be damned, resulting in a very stunned Roy being hauled into a rib cracking bear hug

The smell of alcohol and the quieter musk of Maes' favorite cologne engulfed Roy's senses, the smells he had come to associate with home, and after a moment he relaxed into those arms. Roy felt Maes press a cheek against the top of his head and sigh, and tentatively reached his arms around the other man.

It seemed the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry." Roy whispered a handful of shaky heartbeats later.

"S'ok." Maes replied. "I drank all y'r brandy."

"**_tell me little lies  
tell me once again it's just you and I…"_**

And if they clung to each other perhaps a little longer than necessary at times…if they huddled under shared blankets at night wrapped in the comfort of each others warmth…neither of them said a word.


	2. Burn

_well, it continues. more angst, more fluff, less alchohol. ah well. they can't drink ALL the time now can they? lyrics that set this one off are from "Burn, Burn" by Lost Prophets. -fireun_

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_**"Burn, burn the truth, the lies, the news  
Burn, burn the life that you can't choose  
Burn, burn the hate that gets you through  
Burn, burn for us, for them, for you..."**__**  
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The smell of charred flesh was not something that the mind forgot easily, if at all. It had a way of lingering at the edge of the mind in the same distressingly oily way it managed to adhere to the flesh of the living in the vicinity. Every time he breathed he could still smell it…couldn't wash his face enough times to get the greasy feel off. He tried, washed until his skin was red and raw, and still as soon as the water dried he could feel it, a slick reminder.

He just couldn't seem to get it out- not out of his skin or his clothes, hell, it was in his hair…

Maes let himself into the apartment, as he always did, stepping over discarded boots and a uniform jacket. It was never a good sign when Roy's apartment was that disorderly from the get go. There was definite truth in the statement that a persons house reflected their state of mind, and from the smell of what were most likely dirty dishes that had been sitting in the kitchen for a few days at least, Roy's state of mind currently left something to be desired.

He could hear water running, which could be a good sign. Perhaps the younger man had gotten his shit together and was cleaning up?

Well, he was definitely cleaning something…Maes sighed as he peered into the bathroom. Roy was at it again, scrubbing at his face with the intensity of the damned. "Roy." He spoke softly, soothingly. Last time he had managed to startle the man, which had ended in Maes having to request a replacement uniform. And some burn salve.

Roy looked up with bloodshot eyes, squinting a bit as if he were the nearsighted one, and frowned. "Can't get it off."

Maes closed his eyes for a moment, settling himself, and then with the resignation that accompanies a well practiced yet still distasteful action, walked into the bathroom to disarm his friend of all soap and scrubbing tools. Thankfully Roy's were wet, as he obviously resented the interruption, snapping ineffectively as Maes approached. With agility few alive witnessed, Maes dodged all manner of dirty blows as Roy realized his primary attack was useless.

"Roy, we have had scuffles far worse than this. And I always win." Duck a punch towards his throat. "C'mon man, give it a rest." Pin his arms back when he refused to calm down. "Please Roy. I really hate doing this."

Roy stood, tense and panting, his ability to move defeated completely by Maes' larger, more solid form, and swore. Maes had learned to mostly ignore the particularly nasty breed of insult Roy usually spewed when cornered and not quite in his right mind. It didn't take away the sting, but it kept it from lingering.

Then Roy decided to step on his foot, slamming a heel rather viciously into his toes while snapping a rather pointed discussion as to the size of Maes' gentiles. Maes yelped, looked his hold for only an instant, and lost his control of the situation. He had two options at that point- give it up as a good fight and let Roy run out of energy on his own or go for a more traditional response. Maes decided on tradition and threw a punch.

Roy slammed to a stop, his world spinning as a result of a perfectly executed hit to his right temple, and didn't even get a chance to dodge the second hit. Maes watched his friend crumple to the floor, stunned but not complete unconscious, and sighed. "When you wake up with a migraine later, pal, remember I tried to reason with you first."

Maes hauled a wobbly Roy to his feet and maneuvered him to the couch, making sure he was going to stay put before wandering back to the kitchen for some ice. "Forgot to stock the fridge again I see." Maes muttered his quest for alcohol and food defeated by Roy's lack of attention towards personal care. At least there was ice.

He wrapped the ice in one of Roy discarded shirts which were lying where ever Roy had discarded them throughout the past week, settled himself with an irreverent thump onto the couch beside Roy, and pressed the makeshift icepack against the semi-conscious mans head.

"It all goes to shit sometimes, old friend. It really does. Life shits on you, then moves on. We have to move along with it. Can't let it eat you alive like this." He never knew if the words made it into Roy's conscious mind, but at least every time he was in this position Maes felt that he was at least giving it his best. "No one will think less of you if you let it pass, Roy. We wont think you some sort of heartless bastard. Remember, if we can haul ass to the top, we can fix all this fucking nonsense. But to get there…"

"I know." Roy whispered brokenly. He leaned into the ice, concentrating on the chill. "I know, but…"

"No 'buts' Roy. There isn't any room for them in this line of work." Well, this was an improvement- proof that his words were getting through.

"You're an asshole." Roy muttered. "Have I told you that?"

"Yup. Numerous times. Mostly when I am right."

"Shut up."

"Honestly Roy. I thought you smarter than that. When have you ever known me to shut up?"


	3. Nobody Needs to Know

_angst, angst, angst...fluff? kinda like duck, duck, goose... songfic challenge issued by a friend. and it kinda fits in with this little fic set. so here it is. lyrics are from "Nobody Needs to Know" from The Last 5 Years. -fireun_

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**_"Hey, kid - good morning  
You look like an angel  
I don't remember when we fell asleep  
We should get up, kid…"_**

Warmth. Maes nuzzled his chin into the back of his bed partners neck, reveling in the same sleepy contentment of a cat as he took in the musky, familiar smell of satiny skin and dark silken hair. The sun was working its way up into the sky. He could feel it on his bare back, a hint that the day was going to start soon, whether he wanted it to or not. With a quiet sigh he gave one last full body hug before pulling away to acknowledge the fact he should most likely be somewhere else, very soon.

**_"Look at us, lying here  
Dreaming, pretending  
I made a promise and I took a vow  
I wrote a story  
And we changed the ending…"_**

Some things life just didn't account for, at least not in any fair way. Roy Mustang was one of them. Maes looked down at the younger man, a crooked smile on his face. Even with his glasses off he had to admit the view was something splendid. Roy's pale skin…currently mussed black hair splayed across the pillow…the fact that as he woke a bit due to Maes' movement a quiet smile broke across his usually painfully solemn face.

It was the smile that had done him in. He had wanted to badly to see that closed face smile, to see full lips curve upwards. And he had wanted to be the cause.

**_"Hold on, facts are facts  
Just relax, lay low  
All right, the panic recedes:  
Nobody needs to know"_**

"Time is it?" Roy managed in a muffled voice as he turned his face into a pillow in an attempt to evade the slight bit of light coming in the window.

"Time for me to be getting my ass back to my own place." Maes answered, sitting up and stretching.

Dark eyes registered unhappiness and a flash of panic before they became hooded and wakeful. "I see." Roy pulled himself into a sitting position as well, feigning a sort of detached lack of concern.

"Damn…" Maes leaned over and threw an arm around Roy's slender shoulders. The man was built like a dancer, all sinew and muscle. It was as if he had burned away everything he didn't need in his drive to get where he was going in life. And Maes hated it when that attractive form went so still and cold. "I need to head out, Roy. In all seriousness." He trailed a kiss across Roy's cheek, ending at his earlobe with a playful sort of nip.

"I know."

Maes took one look at Roy's set face, and knew the other man grasped the situation- he just didn't like it. Well. Maes believed in one cure for everything… He stood, hauled on his pants, and as he was letting himself out, he called out quietly over his shoulder "And, hell, I wouldn't want to be responsible for breaking the hearts of every nurse, camp follower, and female in the service!"

It was a good thing he managed to duck out before the pillow Roy launched made it to him. It hit the door with a whack and fell harmlessly to the floor.

"**_No one will understand  
No one will understand..."_**

It was a careful dance, much harder on the exuberant Maes than the naturally more restrained Roy. Played right though, it just appeared that Roy was the latest of Maes' unfortunate targets. The man was a known prankster, and a brilliant one. Roy really did seem the perfect target.

It had started like that, a driving need to get some sort of response out of the reticent man, and had evolved somewhere along the way into a deep affection on Maes' part. He didn't dare let anyone else know just how deep, but his infamous knives did a lot of the talking when words or actions moved in ways he didn't appreciate when Roy was involved.

It really was kind of funny, how things just sort of…fell together. It was kind of funny how neither of them ever wanted to admit they were lonely. It was odd to find contentment in each other, but Maes looked forward to seeing just how far he had to push Roy before he would get an honest emotional response, and Roy grew oddly addicted to the others companionship, no matter how unconventional.

The saying that one thing will lead to another had to start somewhere. Which is most likely how Maes found his way to Roy's room the night before.

_**"All that I ask for  
Is one little corner  
One private room  
At the back of my heart…"**_

Maes hated the fact he was creeping back to his room in the wee hours of the morning like some sort of criminal. If he had been with a woman he would saunter back, shit-eating grin firmly on his face. He wanted to do the same now, filled as he was with a sort of wonder at how…happy he was. The feel of impossibly soft skin, a body as hot as the fire it was infamous for…it was almost as addicting as the surprise on Roy's face, in his voice, as he realized the intensity of his own emotion.

Maes wanted to take care of him, help him…just be with him. As he shut the door of his own room behind him, Maes closed his eyes and stood still for a moment. Damn, but he didn't think it would ever _be_ like this.

**_"And what can I do?  
Come back to bed, kid  
Take me inside you  
I promise I won't lie to you"_**

Roy made a decision in the minutes after Maes had left. He stood, dressed, made sure his hair was presentable, took a deep breath.

Maes' cologne hung in the air like the ghost of some sort of incubus, teasing and tempting and unattainable all at once. Unattainable if he didn't, for once, take a risk that was not physical.

Maes pulled away from the door just in time, alerted by the sound of tentative footsteps that someone was approaching. There was a pause, and then an unsteady sort of knock.

"Come in." Maes stepped back a few more paces as he spoke, curious more than anything else, maybe a little nervous. Maybe someone saw him come back, where he came from and at what hour…

That was when Roy entered, and Maes' train of thought derailed. Of all the things he had expected… There was a glint in Roy's eye, a stubborn tilt to his head that did not bode well for the man who was now cornered in his own room, as Roy shut the door rather deliberately and stood directly in front of it.

"What's up, Mustang?"

**_"Hold on, don't cry yet  
I won't let you go  
All right - the panic recedes  
All right - everyone bleeds  
All right - I get what I need"_**

"Damn it, Hughes."

The stricken look on Roy's face, the fact that the walls didn't instantly regenerate, made Maes instantly regret his flippant tone. He did the only thing that came to mind; he took three large steps and enfolded Roy in a tight embrace. "Hey, Roy. I'm sorry. You caught me by surprise is all."

"And they say I go through lovers faster than socks. Bored of me already?" There was a definite self-deprecating tone in Roy's voice, one that Maes did not like at all. It reminded him of too many unhappy rants over a little too much booze. There was something he had wanted to do whenever he listened to Roy talk like that, but had never had the spine or the opportunity to do so.

"**_And nobody needs to know  
Nobody needs to know"_**

In the privacy and the relative safety that provided of his own room, Maes placed a kiss on Roy's forehead. "Hey, it's alright."

"You smell good." Roy muttered against Maes' chest, feeling the rumble of the chuckle his comment produced.

"Well, I do try."

"Ass."

"Again, I do my best."

There really was no good way to get Maes Hughes to shut the hell up, at least not that Roy had come across so far. There was one thing he had never tried…As Maes opened his mouth for some sort of witty rejoinder or another Roy lifted his face a bit and gave Maes something else to do with his eternally running mouth.

"**_And since I have to be in love with someone  
Since I need to be in love with someone  
Maybe I could be in love with someone  
Like you..."_**

"Hey, Roy." Maes' voice was a lot less sure than usual, and Roy buried his head against Maes' chest, sure he had done something to piss the older man off. "Why the hell are you hiding? Look at me man."

Roy dared a glace upwards, embarrassed as all hell at this spineless attitude on his part. He was a man used to going straight for what he wanted. Maybe the problem here was he wasn't sure exactly what it was he wanted. All he knew was that if Maes was angry enough to send him away he was not going to be at all happy…He looked up, and ran straight into a kiss.

When they broke apart this time they stared at each other wonderingly for a long moment. It was different in the day, the touching, the wanting… they had a moment too take in the fact that they were both a little out of breath, that they were both more than a little nervous, and then Maes smiled.

"You should get back to your room, ya know."

There was no sting in it this time, no feeling of rejection. One last embrace, and then the reality of the day had to be acknowledged in its entirety.

It was going to be a long day.


	4. Accidentally Like a Martyr

_there is more angst in this one than a mountain of Subaru drabbles. it just kinda happened... **SPOILERS** for ep 25 and beyond. lyrics are from "Accidentally like a Martyr" by Warren Zevon. -fireun_

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_**"The phone don't ring  
And the sun refused to shine  
Never thought I'd have to pay so dearly  
For what was already mine  
For such a long, long time  
We made mad love  
Shadow love  
Random love  
And abandoned love  
Accidentally like a martyr  
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder..."**_

It really wasn't fair. Upon closer inspection, few things in the world were, but this really took the cake. There was something so blatantly _wrong_ with it all… Roy sat in his chair, lifted a pen to try and get some work done, and paused expectantly.

Then remembered.

With a quiet snarl he set upon his paperwork with the intensity of a being possessed.

_'Yo! Roy!'_

More haunted than possessed, but the symptoms were close to the same. Page finished, signature firmly in place, he glared at the phone, daring it to break the moody silence. The phone didn't cooperate.

_'Have you seen this one yet? I think it is the cutest!'_

"Hawkeye!" He shouted, the shuffling of papers not enough to take the oppressiveness out of the silence. It was just so different… The blonde woman entered, a spark of concern in her eyes as she saluted. "I am done with these. Take them back to whomever decided I needed to read them."

"Sir." Hawkeye paused, clearly attempting to set thoughts to order before speaking, never a good sign when it was someone usually so secure in speaking their mind. "Roy. Might it be a good idea for you to take a day or so off, considering the circumstances?"

"The circumstances didn't think include someone to do my work for me." Roy fidgeted, something so uncharacteristic he actually noticed his own twitchy tapping of the desk, scowled at his own hand, and very pointedly picked up a pen. "I'm sure there is at least a mountain or three more of paperwork to get done, files to go through…"

"Excuse me for being inappropriate, but cut the crap, sir." Hawkeye snatched the paperwork from his desk, upset. "Go have a drink or something. Take Havoc with you. It is not like he gets any work done around here anyway."

_'Roy- it's past noon already. Time for a good brandy before your first lieutenant figures out where we have wandered off to?'_

"But I haven't gotten a call yet." He whispered, casting an almost wistful glance at the silent phone.

"Sir, you hate paperwork. Skip out, go get a drink, go on a date, do something. I will do the usual and get the work done here." Her voice was so soft, but thankfully lacking in anything resembling pity. He couldn't have stood pity. Her cajoling eventually got him to stand, gather up his coat and gloves, and wander out of the office.

It was decidedly odd to be skipping out of work without his partner in crime. He knew Havoc was following, knew the man was acting more as a babysitter than anything else, but he didn't have the energy to be offended. In a fit of childish irritation, he decided to bore the other man into leaving him alone.

Habit directed him to the usual watering hole, to the familiar booth, complete with a couple of knife scars inflicted on the unsuspecting table over the years by a Maes in varying states of inebriation.

_'Heh, Roy, watch this!'_

He ordered two brandies, and hunkered down to drink his with the single-minded determination of the depressed.

Sometime after his sixth (or was it ninth?) drink, Havoc hauled him to his feet and led him out, the brandy that had sat opposite him remaining as untouched as when it had been ordered. Which made sense really, as the person who it had been ordered for had neglected to show up.

**_"The days slide by  
Should have done, should have done, we all sigh  
Never thought I'd ever be so lonely  
After such a long, long time  
Time out of mind  
We made mad love  
Shadow love  
Random love  
And abandoned love  
Accidentally like a martyr  
The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder"_**

He protested most churlishly as Havoc casually manhandled him into his apartment, and then into bed. It took Havoc a try or three to get him to stay curled atop the mattress, but when finally convinced he would stay put, Havoc left.

_'You don't have to go to work _now_ do you? I am sure being late once or thrice wont affect your promotions.'_

He really should be at the office. Who did Hawkeye think she was, sending him away like that? And why the hell was there a monologue running in his head, in the most drearily inane joy ever? Maes never did know when to shut up.

Maes.

The unpleasantness that had been churning like worms in his gut all day, twisting like the finer bits of insanity through his head, finally had a name, and the grief that was associated with it. He chocked a sob, smothering his face in pillows, searching desperately for a hint of cologne, ignoring the reality that Maes had not slept beside him in years, not since meeting the woman he would eventually marry. A puppy desperate for a familiar scent, he hauled blankets and pillows tightly against him, weeping.

_'Shit happens, Roy. People die, and it is up to the people left alive to deal with taking care of each other. It's the best we can do.'_

He could almost feel strong arms tight around him, comforting him in his grief as they had so many times before. A voice of reason in a world that rarely made any sort of sense soothed him to silence, and finally sleep, no matter that the voice was completely in his head.

They had only buried Maes yesterday, and already there was an eerie sort of detachment hovering between Roy's mind and the outer workings of the world in general.

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_a/n - would you believe i never intended this to be more than a one shot? -looks at the growing number of ficlets. i am glad you guys enjoy reading! see what feedback does! it makes me write more! wheee!_


	5. Dancing in the Dark

_lyrics this time from "Dancing in the Dark" by Springsteen. dont have an intro for this one really, apart from somehow the lyrics stuck me as appropriate for our dear Mustang -fireun_

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_**"I get up in the evening  
and I ain't got nothing to say  
I come home in the morning  
I go to bed feeling the same way  
I ain't nothing but tired  
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself  
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help"**_

There were days when cleaning the place just didn't seem worth it.

Roy glanced around the small apartment, taking in the familiar clutter- the books laying open where he had left them, a scattered maelstrom's remain of notes, and a seemingly endless parade of coffee mugs, some still retaining a bit of the bitter liquid. If only he could find the blue mug…that one should still have some slightly alcoholic coffee in it left over from last night. Maybe after ingesting that he would manage to get the mug to the sink, to be washed. And once he started cleaning…perhaps motivation would kick in…

Or maybe not. He made it over to the couch, a scant four feet or so away from the small table the blue mug rested on, before he decided sitting and looking through some notes would be a better way to spend his time. After sweeping aside a messy stack of papers covered in his concise handwriting he settled down to read.

Really, what else was there to do? There were no missions, it was not a day he had to be in the office, and if he cleaned it would really just get dirty again.

**_"Message keeps getting clearer  
radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place  
I check my look in the mirror  
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face  
Man I ain't getting nowhere  
I'm just living in a dump like this  
There's something happening somewhere  
baby I just know that there is"_**

"Damn, Roy. Ever thought about paying someone to deal with this hazardous waste?" Maes' voice called from the doorway, followed by the irreverent thud of boots hitting the floor after being discarded. It was a hint to Roy's state of distraction that he had not heard his friend enter.

"Hmmm? It isn't that bad. Its not as if the apartment is dirty."

"No, it just looks like the top drawer of my desk. Only spread over much more territory." Maes hopped around a pile of books that had spilled over onto its side and carefully maneuvered across the living room. He glanced down once and barked a laugh. "Roy…why is there a list of names with lines through them? Women's names?"

"Now you are just baiting me." Roy grumped, closing his book and crossing his arms. "They are women I dated. The ones that are crossed off didn't work out."

"They are _all _crossed out." Maes tried, very very hard, not to break into the huge, belly shaking laughter he could feel bubbling just below the surface of his politely amused exterior.

"Then obviously, they didn't work out, did they?" Roy snapped

Which, of course, triggered Maes' laughter. It was just too much, seeing Roy raise his hackles like that in self-defense. Sitting on the couch as he was, almost half buried in books and papers, he was about as intimidating as a wet cat trying desperately to poof and hiss. Laughing, Maes held his hands out in surrender as Roy turned a scathing look in his direction. "Whoa, settle down, old man. I'm sorry. It's just….you kept a _list_."

"To keep track." Roy grumbled, returning his attention to the book in an attempt to retain some sort of dignity.

**_"You sit around getting older  
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me  
I'll shake this world off my shoulders  
come on baby this laugh's on me"_**

"C'mon Roy. You look like you never see sunlight anymore. Lets go out. Do something. Anything." Maes perched on the edge of the couch, obviously antsy.

"I am reading."

"Brilliant. Now, tell me how reading is going to get you moving closer to your goal." Maes' voice grew quiet.

Roy shot a glance at his friend. "Not fair, Maes."

"I was under the impression you didn't expect life to be fair. I said I would support you, said I would help you get to the top." He stood, pulling a resisting Roy with him.

Roy's book thudded off of his big toe as he fumbled it in his attempt to break free of Maes' iron grip. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he snarled.

"What I promised." Maes calmly replied, maneuvering Roy towards the door. "You can either put your boots on like a good boy, or I will put them on for you."

There was definitely a threat hidden beneath the placid declaration, and Roy opted for what was most likely the easier way out- dressing himself. Under Maes' watchful eye he tugged on his boots and then straightened, eyes blazing with affronted anger.

"You cannot get to the top by being a shadow, Mustang. Get out there. Meet the men- get to know them and let them know you. Give them something to fight for, be something worth fighting for." Maes opened the door, gesturing with his free hand for Roy to precede him. As the younger man stormed past, Maes settled that free hand on his shoulder for a moment. "You will get there, Roy. It will just take some doing."

"I know." Roy sighed.

"Well, then, that being understood, I know this great bar where a bunch of the guys hang out off hours. Shall we?"

**_"You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart  
This gun's for hire  
Even if we're just dancing in the dark"  
_**


	6. Broken

_this one just kinda popped into existence. silly plot!bunnies... lyrics this time from "Broken", by Seether, feat. Amy Lee. -fireun_

* * *

_**"I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away  
I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain"**_

It was funny. Hilarious really. Maes Hughes, sitting on a car looking for a soldier in the returning units as intently as if he were some young woman determined to see her love returned safely.

Maes perched irreverently on the edge of the military vehicle, legs swinging as he scanned the crowd of exhausted soldiers, hoping to catch a glimpse of familiar features. Ah, there, a particularly sardonic facial expression, a (slightly road-dusty) head of short black hair, military uniform obsessively neat…

"Yo! Mustang!" Maes called, out, waving as he propelled himself from his roost. The man in question cast a swift, almost embarrassed glance in his direction, and then swung away, trying almost desperately, to be looking anywhere else. At all. His attention settled on a particularly plain portion of road, obviously oblivious to the fact there was nothing there to actually _look_ at.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong?" Maes narrowed his eyes as he approached, taking in the sheer amount of dust clinging to Roy, as well as the other men, alchemists and soldiers alike, who were hauling themselves out of various vehicles. Careful not to intrude to closely into his friend's personal space, he paused, frowning at the dark shadows under Roy's eyes, the hollow look to his face. "Rough time?"

Roy finally shifted his eyes, allowing them to meet the older man's for a second before giving a curt nod. "Yeah."

"It will get easier." Maes murmured, attempting to soothe his obviously exhausted and stressed friend.

"I hope not." Roy hissed, shuddering.

Maes closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his wits and his patience. It was funny really, how much this kid meant to him. Damn did he hate seeing him come home a wreck like this. Every time. "Request some leave time, Roy. They can't really say no, seeing as you leap at every mission that wanders this way."

"No. I just need a little rest…I will be fine."

"A little rest, a little booze, and a good talk. It will fix all that ails you." Confident now that Roy was settled enough to accept contact, Maes threw and arm over his shoulders. "Lucky for you I am prepared for your return, oh soldier mine."

"Shut up." Roy growled, leaning into his friend, the relief in the gesture taking the sting out of the comment.

**_"The worst is over now and we can breathe again  
I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away  
There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain"_**

Roy sank back into the chair with a sigh, reveling in the familiar tang of cologne and alcohol that had been absorbed into the worn leather throughout the past few years. It was Maes' one great indulgence, this cushioned monstrosity that reigned supreme from the corner of the man's apartment. It was also Roy's favorite place to sit and unwind after missions.

Maes settled onto the small couch with a sigh, propping his feet, boots and all, onto the scratched and worn coffee table with a bachelor's innocent relish. "So. wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." Roy muttered, reaching for his mug. Coffee and alcohol. Maes was _brilliant._

"We never talk anymore."

Roy looked up, startled. Maes had sounded so…forlorn, and the words were more suited to an estranged lover than a friend just back from the front lines. The gleam in the man's pale eyes belied the sorrow on his face. "Ass." He growled.

"Oh, admit it, you missed me." Maes grinned, dodging the pillow thrown his way. "Didn't you?"

Roy glared a moment longer, determined his ire should be acknowledged, but as Maes held his toothy grin, Roy harrumphed and settled back into his chair, intent of sipping his whiskey and coffee in silence.

He should know by now that silence was something rarely achieved in the presence of one Maes Hughes.

"You never answered my question." Maes pointed out.

"What?"

"Did you miss me?"

Roy tried to ignore the fact Maes was batting his eyes as shamelessly as a whore, tried to take the man seriously.

Then again, he had had enough of being serious in the past few weeks. "Immeasurably." Roy replied, glare relaxing into a crooked smile. "Stop that, man. You look ridiculous."

Then Roy blinked for a moment, stunned, before braking into laughter that was only slightly hysterical. There was just something sublimely funny about one grown man sticking his tongue out at another. Something so absurd he couldn't help but laugh.

And as always, Maes had known that laugh was just what he needed.


	7. Checkmate

"Checkmate."

Roy gazed blearily at the chessboard, trying to figure out when exactly he had managed to lose the game. Then he turned an accusatory gaze towards his opponent. "You got me drunk."

"You did the drinking yourself, pal."

"You aren't drunk."

"Astute as ever. You will conquer continents with that cunning sense of perception." Maes started gathering up the pieces with hands that were, in Roy's opinion, inappropriately steady.

"Why?"

"Well, when one captures the…"

"No, ass. Why you get me drunk?" Roy was rather proud of the fact his speech slurred only a little, the result of years of attempting to hide one's state of inebriation while attending university.

"You needed it."

Damn, Maes was using _that _tone of voice again, the one that implied he knew what was best for Roy and was going to act accordingly. He _hated_ it when Maes belittled him like that. Feeling rather truculent, Roy jabbed awkwardly at the chessboard, happily sending a pile of small chessmen to plummet to the floor with a clatter. A piece or two took the fall rather poorly, one snapped in half at the impact and another cracked.

There was a pause, and then Maes moved, silently, to gather up the pieces.

And it occurred to Roy that while Maes really was being an ass, he didn't deserve to be upset. The usually ebullient man's careful silence was a testament to the level of his displeasure, which prompted Roy to feel rather forlorn.

"Sorry."

"No problem." Maes shook his head as Roy moved to help gather up his mess. "Hey, you've had a rough spell. No hard feelings."

"'s not an excuse to be a bas'ard." Roy muttered, hunching in his chair.

"Roy, old man, if you are starting to feel depressed it is time to either pound you with more booze or start saturating you with coffee. Your call." Maes lovingly deposited the last of the pieces back into their box and folded up the worn board.

"Café. Get coffee with me?" Roy turned a hopeful eye Maes' way.

"Sure thing, pal. Sure thing." Maes patted Roy on the shoulder affectionately. "You ok to walk or should I lend you a shoulder?"

Roy's first inclination was to be offended at the suggestion he might need assistance. But, as usual, his better judgment kicked in, jumpstarted by the warm smile on his friends face. "Shoulder." He cracked a smile. "Only this once though."

"Sure, old man. Suuuuuure." Maes hauled Roy to his feet, and then smiled sheepishly, peering over his glasses. "And sorry for being such an ass, Roy. I was worried about you. Must be the left over stress or something."

Roy snorted, waving away Maes' apology. " S'ok." His head chose that moment to acknowledge the fact that he had been drinking rather heavily for the past couple of hours, springing a rather acute headache to life with inappropriate enthusiasm. "Coffee?" Roy all but begged Maes.

Who had the presence of mind not to laugh.

Though there was a most definite glitter in his pale, expressive eyes.

* * *

_yo, long time no update, m'friends. i am still writing, just usually too busy to cross post everything i write. mostly drabbles and fics make it to lj. the name there is fireun, same as here. stop by!_


	8. Snow on the Sahara

**"**_**Only tell me that you still want me here  
When you wander off out there  
To those hills of dust and hard winds that blow…" –Anggun, "Snow on the Sahara"**_

* * *

"You're leaving."

Roy hunched his shoulders, frowning as he caught himself in the middle of the defensive reaction. Of all the people, of all the words...He turned slowly, making sure his face was bland, his eyes hooded, even though he knew it never worked, not with Maes.

Maes looked like hell. Not the was-out-drinking-far-too-late-and-on-duty-far-too-early sort of hell either. His eyes bloodshot, face lined, a frown tugging unnaturally at the corners of his mouth. His uniform was presentable, not a good sign, and his large hands were clenched.

Roy hated himself, almost observing more than participating, as he sardonically replied. "That does happen when one is called into active duty."

The next thing he knew he was on his ass in the dirt, jaw hurting like hell. It was so easy to forget how damn _fast _Maes was, with that deceptively large build and casual attitude.

"Don't give me that…crap." Maes spat, eyes blazing.

Well damn. He had actually managed to get Maes Hughes angry. Maybe they would give him a badge… What is wrong with you! That _hurt_!"

"Good." Maes growled, hands clenching and unclenching restlessly, almost as if he was considering getting another good hit in.

It was so unlike Maes…Roy had seen him upset before, but nothing near this level of agitation. And there was something very close to fear in those pale eyes, all but hidden under ferocious anger. "Maes…?"

The pleading confusion in Roy's tone caused Maes' face to crumple. Anger burned out, leaving desolation in its place. "You're leaving." He whispered, voice thick with resignation.

Roy blinked, not understanding. "It is just a tour of service. I _will_ be back." His words did nothing to alleviate the crestfallen expression on Maes' face. "Maes, I don't understand what is bothering you. Help me up, and lets talk. This is an awkward position to be attempting serious conversation from."

"I'm sorry." Maes had the decency to look at least a little chagrined as he helped haul Roy to his feet. "Just a case of poorly placed caustic commentary on your part."

"Well, next time I get to deck you, alright?" Roy worked his jaw a little, wincing. "You have one hell of a punch, Maes. Remind me to avoid being on the receiving end of it in the future."

Maes chuckled lightly at that, knuckling his perpetual scruff in embarrassment. "Want a drink? My treat."

"If it will get you to talk, sure."

"I thought I was supposed to be the strong, collected one." Maes sighed.

"You are, which is why you are going to lay out exactly what is bothering you, in coherent sentences."

"You're leaving."

"We have been over that already…" Roy griped.

"You really know how to irritate a man." Maes grumbled, not at all appreciating Roy's tone.

"Learned from the best, old friend. Now, elaborate?"

"You're leaving…me."

_Oh_. Now, that made sense. "Maes, I am leaving you on military duty. I am not running off with the first set of slender suntanned set of legs I run across."

"It is the owner of the legs I worry about…you are an attractive, charismatic man…"

"Maes…"

"And the women will, doubtless, want to take advantage of your charming personality…"

"Maes…"

"I mean, _I _was addicted…"

Maes had one easily exploitable weakness, one Roy took advantage of so as to stop the idiocy spewing out of his friend's mouth- he leaned over and nipped Maes left earlobe. Maes babbling monologue met a stuttering death as the man twitched, surprised.

"There. Now that I have your attention. I will be back, Maes Hughes. I will not run off with some attractive wench, I will not be distracted by a nice ass. I want to haul myself back here and be with you. We will have a drink or five, I will tell you stories, you will show me pictures, and we will get ourselves into some trouble. Just as we always do."

"I get into trouble. You talk your way out of everything." Maes muttered, attempting to be grumpy, even though there was a most definite sparkle coming back to life in his eyes.

"Damn right." Roy grinned, comfortable that he had managed to defuse the situation. "Now, since I am leaving in the morning…"

There was, most definitely, a sparkle in Maes' eyes. "Well, I did mention treating you to a drink or three…"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Who, me?" Maes radiated innocence. Roy was not at all fooled, but allowed his friend to lead the way.


	9. Epilogue

_sometimes i get just a sort of image in my head...and after rewatching the entire series, i got the image of Roy heading back to visit Maes. **SPOILERS for ep 25**. **post series**, so keep that in mind as well my friends! -fireun_

* * *

Brigadier General Roy Mustang hunkered down, leaning his back irreverently against the smooth stone. With a flourish he produced two brandy snifters from his coat pocket, followed by a flask from his belt. "It was hell to sneak these past Riza, you know." He settled his head back against the gravestone with a sigh, resting a moment before pouring a bit of brandy into each glass.

"Brigadier General Maes Hughes. I finally caught up with you." Roy set one glass on the ground next to him, lifted the other to take a sip. "I still don't know how you got me to drink this cheap stuff. It's terrible."

He sipped quietly, back supported by the gravestone, in a pose of quiet contemplation. He straightened with a wince to refill his glass, his back creaking loudly as it was deprived of its support, and his face twisted into a wry sort of smile. "Still supporting me, eh Maes? Fullmetal would laugh if he knew I had a bad back. Would most likely rant about my being an old bastard of a colonel." He looked at the stone, smiling in earnest now. "He's so damn easy to get a rise out of. It's inordinately fun."

"Then again, I am sitting here talking to a grave, so I don't know if my views on the personal quirks of my subordinates bears weight." Roy downed the rest of his brandy with a grimace as it burned its way down his throat.

"I did it though, Maes. I finally did it." There was a fierce satisfaction in that quiet declaration, and a sense of closure. "I wish…I wish you were here with me, Maes, but I _did_ it. So you can rest easy, old friend, alright?"

Roy stood, joints that had gone stiff with sitting on the cold ground creaking, and placed a hand on top of the stone for a moment. "I have to get going. Riza will send the dogs out after me shortly. I can only avoid so much work in one day after all." His face softened. "And she does worry about me. I took your advice, Maes. I found myself a woman. Thankfully you aren't around to tease me about it. Or take all manner of embarrassing pictures to torment us with later."

Roy patted the stone, the shoved hands in pockets and made his way back to work, leaving his empty glass beside the one he had poured for the man buried there.


	10. Overconfidence

_ a gift for Spades44_

* * *

Some people should be let anywhere near a battle field. Not because they were lacking in skills, rather that they fell short in the common sense department. Maes lay still and quiet on the infirmary cot, two states of being which were completely alien to the rather boisterous individual. The copious bandaging didn't help the ambiance any, and as Roy sighed, moving to fuss with the edge of Maes' blanket, he couldn't help but shake his head in consternation.

Maes just didn't know when he was beat. Any normal, sane individual would have balked before charging into a battlefield full of guns and alchemists with nothing more than knives. Granted, Maes was an unholy terror with said knives, but that didn't make up for being utterly outnumbered and seriously outgunned.

Roy had had a rather unique perspective on the whole situation, seeing as he had been flat on his ass, bleeding from a rather fantastic number of admittedly light, but painful, wounds and looking up into what he had been sure was the last gun barrel he would have to lay eyes on…

And Maes had thrown himself into the melee like some sort of fanatic avenging angel, arms a flurry of motion as he propelled his knives with deadly accuracy. One had found its mark in the throat of the man holding that gun to Roy's face with a good solid thunk, and Roy had watched him fall in a splurt of blood.

He hated getting blood on his face, but had been too dumbfounded to move.

Maes, with what Roy considered a rather terrifyingly insane grimace on his face had slashed his way to Roy's side, hauled him to his feet, and proceeded to make good their retreat.

It wasn't until they had achieved some sort of safety that Maes had smiled, and collapsed, finally acknowledging the fact that more than a few stray shots had found their mark.

Which led to the current situation.

Roy glared down at the thankfully unconscious Maes, who choked out a bit of a snore before lapsing back into his medicinally deep sleep. "If you ever do that again, you impulsive, overconfident ass, the doctors won't have to worry about putting you back together. I will kill you myself."

The glare sustained itself for approximately four or five heart beats before it melted into an almost desperate concern. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, Maes." Roy reached out, lightly ran his knuckles down one of Maes stubble darkened cheeks. "Don't scare me like that." Hearing his voice cracking Roy clenched his jaw shut and pulled his chair closer, facilitating easier physical contact with his sleeping friend.


	11. Between Us

there is a song by Vienna Teng called "Between". it is beautiful. and it is perfect for these two. its also the music that spawned this ficlet. enjoy. -fireun

* * *

There was a magnificent beauty to the first sunlight of the day. It filtered in through thick, imperfect glass and formed little rainbows that shifted and danced as Maes breathed. It was one of the little things Roy enjoyed, what made the quiet time in the morning as much of a ritual as the dressing, grooming, and eating that would follow. Rainbows dancing across his lover's chest. A passing bit of serenity, a fleeing bit of peace. Soon, soon Maes would shift, roll onto his side and sigh, the little signs that he was considering waking.

Roy would have to give up his hold on the older man, become detached as Maes snaked an arm towards the nightstand in search of his glasses. He would have to allow Maes to pull away, to haul himself into a sitting position as he yawned and scratched his stomach absently.

Mornings were the play of light, a faint hint of yesterday's cologne, and the personal musk that was fighting to overwhelm it. Mornings were a silent avoidance, a casual collection of the clothing that had become scattered the night before, handing socks to their proper owners, detaching shirts from desk lights and chairs. Mornings involved the silent camaraderie of serious coffee drinkers, with serious concerns they were busy avoiding. They were speckled with polite inquiries, of milk needing passing and newspapers being shared.

Maes would lace his boots; forget to tuck in his shirt, and stand, rubbing at a muscle in the back of his neck that had spent the night in an uncomfortable position. Roy would take a deep breath and, as Maes moved towards the door, would curl tentative arms around Maes' waist, fixing the belt Maes had neglected to buckle before daring to pull the man closer.

Nights were for comfort, for closeness, for tasting and touching and reveling in a passion that defied reason. Nights were for caressing, for nipping, for grasping. When the morning blinked through the window, casting bits of rainbow, everything changed. Everything was supposed to change when bits of reflected light twisted as the men in the bed stirred.

That was the plan, the program. That was how everything had been, had to be.

The beauty in the new sunlight was a small compensation for the fact everything would shift from fey beauty back to normal, back to acceptable restraint, polite smiles and nods; recompense for the polite distance that would fill the day.

"Maes."

It was a scratchy inquiry, with more than a hint of pleading, of frightened, frantic desperation. It was unfamiliar, unwelcome…

Maes held still, considering in a way that made Roy want to scream. He wanted a playful grin, to be tossed back on the bed and tickled mercilessly, to have the scruff of a new beard rubbed along his cheeks like a cat marking its territory. He wanted hands that couldn't keep to themselves, wanted that knowing smile…

"It's getting late."

That was what he didn't want…didn't want the duty, the reminder.

Roy's arms fell limp at his sides, releasing the older man in silent defeat.

"Hey now…" Maes turned, leaning his side against Roy's slumped form, tilting his head to rest against Roy's.

The colors of the morning shifted, gaining the sharp intensity of early afternoon, and Maes stirred, huffed a breath into Roy's hair, smiling as the man reflexively reached up to fix the mussed strands.

"I'll see you tonight." Maes whispered, brushing soft kiss across Roy's cheek before slipping out the door.


End file.
